Dear Amu
by Clovarr
Summary: Amu finds a letter that was addressed to her but never actually made it, it was from over 50 years ago. When anyone ever saw Ikuto. The question still lies in Amu's brain, is Ikuto dead or alive?


**Dear Amu.**

Amu finds a letter addressed to her that never made it to her, it's from Ikuto—from 50 years ago.

_Dear Amu,_

It's been years since I first met, I remember it so clearly inside my head I remember it every day, 1950. The colour of your hair, what you were wearing. Your hair was the first thing that caught my attention, so unusual but so fascinating; it was like love at first sight.

I remember the first time we spoke too, it was at a dance hall the moon was full and high in the sky, you were wearing a beautiful red dress, it sparkled with those beautiful sequins, It was a Saturday; and there you were at the middle of the dance floor all alone but dancing to your hearts content, your pink hair was beautiful tonight it was put up with an up do with your favourite clip. Your personality, well, you had a fiery personality that sparked with mine at first, but you couldn't help yourself stuttering and blushing in my presence—I knew you loved me too.

Your eyes—Your eyes, I loved your beautiful golden eyes, it was like I could see into your soul, I could see the emotions you couldn't spit out, or the things you wanted to say, you spoke your mind and didn't care about the consequences until they were far too late.

But, I loved you so little at first, but as time went on my feelings grew for you, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.

You didn't try to please me; you didn't have to after all, just by your mere presence I was happy, I could smile truly in your presence, I could have fun truly in your presence, because I loved you so.

Every other girl had to attempt to please me, even when you away studying to be a successful person, I couldn't please myself with girls anymore, only with _you_.

You told me to go away, and I've been away from you so long my soul is rotting, and I know you may never find this letter, but it's all my feelings of you, I know you haven't seen me for years and you probably wonder why, you probably wait in the beautiful red dress under the moonlight, I don't know what it'd be like what time it is there, I don't know how you'd look—but if I could ever find you in that time, I would marry you and make you mine.

Well; you've probably already married, had children, and then your children have had children. You're a grandmother Amu, A beautiful one at that.

Just remember, my dear Amu. No matter where I am, or what I am doing. It is _you_ my soul has been waiting for.

And now that your gone, my soul is rotting, it's not got your pure existence or your touch on my skin. I feel weak, Dear Amu, because your not here with me at my death bed, your probably already married by the time I'm dying, your probably with the love of your life—like you were mine. And I know you've been waiting these years waiting for a word from me, here's the word, and I'm dead, long since dead.

Just remember those three words I told you when we first met.

_I love you_, _I always will_.

From

Tsukiyomi Ikuto –san, 18 years of age.

A woman no more than 60 years of age stood by the telephone, everyday she had been waiting for some kind of message from her long lost love, Tsukiyomi Ikuto. Her hair had long since lost its beautiful pink colour; she wore a red turtle neck, and a long black skirt.

This was Hinamori Amu.

Amu looked at the piece of faded paper, she held in her hands, watching as her teardrops fell onto Ikuto's messy writing.

"H-He's dead?" Amu hiccupped, looking once again at the faded paper of paper; she ran a shaky hand over Ikuto's last written letter. "How... did I-I not get this until now?"

Amu looked up to see an older woman standing beside her, the woman's wrinkled hand lying on her shoulder to sympathise with the younger woman, this was Ikuto's only remaining relative. Tsukiyomi Utau. Utau's twin tails lay in the same way they had done for so long now, but her hair had just a faint trickle of the once beautiful blonde colour.

"Why..." Amu was full blown crying now, she felt like breaking down and crying her heart out. "Why haven't you or I found this till now?!"

Amu was ready to punch something, she was furious with Ikuto for making her wait so many years for this letter. She was tired, and she just wanted to see Ikuto's face just one more time.

"I never heard from my brother until today, Amu." Utau had a shaky voice, as if she was holding back the tears she held in all these years. "I hadn't heard from him since he was _18_, Amu. That's over 50 years ago! Don't you think I'm furious with my brother too?!"

Amu and Utau had been waiting for Ikuto to come back all these years, sure, they'd had children and then became grandmothers themselves, but somewhere deep inside their hearts they had hope that Ikuto was out there alive.

But, it was Amu's fault Ikuto had never once came into contact with them—After Amu had caught Ikuto cheating on her with a small red haired girl, Amu had been furious, but if she ever met Ikuto again, she would apologize with all her heart. She felt so _guilty _now, for sending Ikuto away, and telling him to never come back.

Had Ikuto killed himself? Was this Ikuto's suicide letter?

The two women didn't know, all they could do was mourn the loss of another beloved member of their family, as the two had they had lost husbands, friends, sisters, brothers and Lovers.

All they could do was mourn him.

* * *

**I thought of this when I was sitting next to my grandparents talking of all the good times we'd had together, I used some of my grandfathers feelings when he first saw my grandmother, and how they felt when they first saw each other. Although, my grandparents bicker quite a fair bit. I know they still love each other, like they did when they first met—and no, my grandfather did not die like Ikuto did in the story. He's still very much alive. **

**I probably repeated a fair bit of things, but Ikuto had not clue what he was saying, as he forgot every word after he wrote it, as he was dying and all. **

**-Clover. **


End file.
